Ascension Chronicles: False Gods
by Malek
Summary: Lord of the Flies meets Sliders...


The Ascension Chronicles: False Gods  
  
1.  
  
It ended as soon as it had started, our war against the darkness that is. Imagine, if you will, a group of misfit students being awakened to a evil that threatened the world every day. We didn't fight pollution or some obscure terminal disease, what we fought could only be defined as.evil. We seven, self- appointed crusaders thought we could beat the creatures that had threatened our world for millennia. Vampires, zombies and sorceresses, we barely bested them, until the Wishgiver returned.  
  
Closing the battered journal, I leant back in my chair and wearily stretched my limbs. I couldn't help but wonder; had I really written that all those years ago? The light from outside had long since dimmed as the sun set over the nearby plains, barely filtering through the stained glass windows of his chambers. Slowly standing and walking to the ash filled fireplace, I uttered the inhuman words, ingrained in my memory through years of use and a fire instantly engulfed the grate.  
  
This is not our home, the rest of the passage came unbidden to my mind, and we do not belong here. The natives believe that we are the fulfilment of their prophecies, the heralds of a new beginning, from what I can understand. The others have begun to argue; I can hear them in the next room now. Some of them want to stay, they say that they have travelled for too long and this chance is too good to pass up. The rest, myself included, just want to find a way home but it seems we are in the minority. I have begun to study the legends of these people in the hope that there is some way home mentioned in the passages that seem to predict our arrival. Although their language is unlike anything we have seen before, I have managed to find reference to a 'time of False Gods'. I can't help but wonder if it means us.  
  
The time is coming, I thought to myself, finally. Standing before the magickal blaze, staring into the flames and lost in my thoughts, I had failed to notice a slender young woman bearing a tray enter through the oaken portal behind him. She dressed in a simple brown dress and silken white blouse, a gift for her seventeenth year. Her auburn hair was tied back for functionality, revealing her delicate features and pale blue eyes. "My lord?" she enquired softly. Snapping from his reverie, I turned my head towards the servant girl and spoke, my voice echoing through the desolate chamber; "Sara, I didn't hear you enter. Please have a seat." Sara tried to hide her surprise at this simple request. He had never offered for her to sit with him before. She had served him since she was eleven, following her mother's death, who in turn had served the Elder for almost two decades. In return for serving him, she was clothed, sheltered and even educated by him. She was the envy of all in the village of Ashan, serving the Elder was the greatest honour possible. The Elder had founded the town as a retreat for those who sought escape from the other Gods. After the Arrival, the Gods divided the realm of Eden between themselves, some fighting wars that were to last for years to come. Eventually, so history tells, the Gods founded seven great empires that were to endure until the present day. The legends described the Elder as both as a wise prophet and a terrible demon. Sara had been brought up inside his home and knew him as he truly was. He appeared no older than she, yet he must be over a hundred years old. He had power over the elements as well as other, less benign, forces and had taught her everything she knew. He had never really spoken to her before, rarely requesting other than what she brought him to eat or gently correcting her when she made an error in her studies. Placing the tray on the table, she drew a stool and shakily sat down opposite her master. I, the Elder and protector of Ashan, remained standing before the fire. Its glow casting a soft light over my skinny frame. The only part of my forced immortality which angers me more than the torture of watching my friends wither and die, was the fact that I am forever trapped in the body of an eighteen year old, with a less than imposing physique. It's true that I never seem to change, remaining just as she remembered me from her childhood. I dressed in a simple cloth shirt with sleeves so long they cloaked my hands. A battered pair of loose leather trousers was all else I wore, preferring tot walk barefoot over the floorboards of my home. My unkempt blonde hair hung over my face as I talked, almost completely obscuring my view. I had lost the need for my spectacles after an encounter with a band of Dragon alchemists, who cured my vision, for a price. It had the interesting side effect of colouring my pupils a deep shade of blue. Those who have seen my eyes describe them as never-ending although I can't see it myself "Sara, you have served me well for nearly seven years now. Your mother, may she rest in peace, also served with great loyalty. Your family has served me long before that, since my arrival here, one hundred and seventy years ago in fact. A member of your bloodline has served me until their death, so it has been for countless generations. Now it is time for that to change." His words made her reel in confusion; he was nearly two hundred years old yet he was still a boy in body! "What do you mean my lord?" she cautiously asked "What change?" A gentle smile crossed his features as he continued; "I know of your relationship with the guardsman, Eliphas. He seems an excellent man and a fine leader." I smiled further as a rosy glow spread through Sara's cheeks in embarrassment. Eliphas, the militia captain of Ashan and her lover. She had been secretly meeting with him during her trips to the stores. The girls in the village below were consumed with jealousy as not only did she serve the Elder but she also lay with the most handsome man in the land. She scalded herself under her breath for being so foolish as to believe she could hide her feelings from a man who knew her so well as to be her father. "My lord, I have a favour to ask of you" she began but was cut off in mid- sentence by a rise of my hand. "I know that you wish to be Bound with this man" I interrupted, silencing further explanation. "You may join with my blessing on one condition, that you and he join me for a feast on the day of your marriage" With a cry of adulation, she leapt from the stool and wrapped her arms around me, hugging me tight as tears flowed unbridled down her face. Suddenly remembering her place, she carefully released him and began to apologise only to be cut off by my laughter. It had been a long time since I had any physical contact as I rarely left the cabin. "Your gratitude is unnecessary, rather it is I who should be thanking you and your family for your lifetimes of service. Your family has served me for too long. My time on this world is finally drawing to a close" This last comment seemed to be addressed more to himself than the excited Sara, who had hurriedly rushed from the room, making her way to the village to tell Eliphas. Watching her hurry away from the cabin, I closed my eyes and smiled. The time of False Gods is ending.  
  
2.  
  
The time in Eden seems to be measured in Ages, each beginning with an event of significance. Currently we are in the Age of False Gods, the previous one being the Age of Fire, called this due to a massive volcanic eruption towards the southern regions. During my research, I also finally discovered the name of that damn rod of Adam's. It seemed to have originated in Eden before Ulara stole it and used it against us before her demise. It is simply called the Rod of Power and is supposedly wielded by the God of Light who will lead the peoples of Eden from the Age of False Gods and into the legendary Age of Enlightenment. Of all the people who could have found that rod, why did it have to be him?  
  
A week passed before the Bonding. The marriage ceremony was carried out in the Ashian traditions of old. Both vowed to be bonded in this life and the next and to love and protect each other, before they are allowed to retire to the Bonding-Shelter where they consummate the marriage whilst the rest celebrate with dance, song and wine. The entire village had helped in the preparations, such a celebration was rare as most of the youths of the realm had fought and died in the Founding War. The scars from the War were still raw in the spirits of the people, having only ceased a decade ago. The Kilamites had launched an assault against the 'dark gods' over a hundred years previously, causing the Elder and his brethren to scatter across Eden to escape their destruction. Sara emerged from the tent some hours later, tired yet satisfied, dressed in her scarlet Vow robes. Greeted by hoots and raucous applause, she looked out over the day she had dreamt about for months. As the sun rose to it's zenith, the festivities began with lute and lyre celebrating the eternal union of two souls. Dozens of villagers danced between the tables that strained with the opulent feast. The few children of the village had produced dyed cloth banners that now festooned the roofs of the cottages and hung above the celebration. Gazing beyond at the village, she could see the humble home of their protector and messiah nestled on the nearby rise of the hill. She had always found his little stone and wood domain a curious home for a God, wasn't he meant to stay in a temple like the others? She had heard tales of the magnificent temples of the other gods, the citadel fortress of Kilam as well as the legends of the hidden dark crypts of Kriss. The village had not seen the Elder for nearly a century, only the magically wrought bountiful harvests betrayed his existence. 'I'll wager that he's sat at his table, reading like he always does' she thought to herself as the sturdy form of Eliphas extricated himself from the tent behind her and took her in his protective embrace. His stubble scratched at her face as he nuzzled at her neck, his short black hair rippling in the noon breeze. As they had lay in the warm darkness of the shelter they had talked as they never had before. She had told him of the arranged meeting with the Elder that evening and he had seemed somewhat nervous at the concept of meeting his deity, even sharing his food. Sara found that eating with him no different than anyone else but suddenly remembered that he had almost been a father to her. She had reassured him by mentioning that Eliphas towered over his 'deity' by at least a foot, a fact Eliphas found immensely amusing as he playfully wrestled with her before they both fell into blissful slumber.  
  
Now that bastard has the nerve to raise an army against us! He's started to call himself Kilam after the Edenite legend's name for him and rallying the peoples against the 'evil gods'. Myself and the remaining few who haven't joined his side have reached a decision, well; an escape would be more accurate. His power won't be absolute whilst we are alive so he can't win as long as we survive. I've told the others that I intend to travel west, past the mountains. David plans to go north and take shelter with the ice nomads, can't say I blame him. We can hear the Dragons approaching, no doubt to expunge our evil from this land by flame. David and I leave tonight, as soon as the sun sets, the others are leaving as soon as they are able. This may be either the last time I see my friends or the last time I write, I don't know which is worse.  
  
The sound the door creaking open awakened me from my sleep. Bemusedly staring at my surroundings, I found myself slumped over the table, papers strewn around the floor. The sun was blazing outside as the sounds of merriment drifted through the window. Sara entered the room behind me with the imposing figure of Eliphas trailing her, shying only slightly. What a time to fall asleep, I thought amusedly, my age must be getting to me. Picking myself up I brushed at my clothes in a vain attempt to improve their crumpled state. "We are here as promised, my lord" Sara volunteered, Eliphas standing outside the doorway. "Please Sara, call me Malek. You are not my servant any more, remember," I answered as I picked up the chaotic mass of paper and dumped them on the table. "I apologise for the mess" I continued, "It kind of reminds me of my room at home. It appears that I forgot the food. I hope you don't mind waiting for a while whilst I cook do you?" Sara allowed a smile as she saw her former master as she remembered him, absent-minded and almost childlike. "Of course not.Malek" she cautiously replied, surprised at the familiarity with which it came. Looking over Sara's shoulder, I evaluated her partner. His features were impressive, a strong chin and kind eyes, the skin of a man who is no stranger to the elements. He was considerably taller than myself and at least twice as broad, the kind of person he would usually avoid at school. He dressed in the black leather tunic and trousers of the militia, a man who takes his position seriously, I mused. Pulling out a stool for Sara, I seated her at the table before moving to the door and facing Eliphas. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you" I said cheerfully said holding out my hand. Eliphas, however, looked at the outstretched limb with a blank look on his face. "Sorry" I quickly apologised, withdrawing the hand, explaining "That's how we greeted people back home." A flicker of homesickness blazed in my stomach as I retreated to the kitchen, continuing to speak to Eliphas, "Please take a stool, I'll be back in a moment." Eliphas perched his frame on the stool as Malek vanished through the door, accompanied by a cacophony of clanking cutlery. An awkward silence descended over the table as a tirade of cursing echoed from the kitchen followed by the distinctive smell of sulphur. A few moments of silence passed before I emerged from the room bearing three metal plates heaped with glistening, golden meat and ripe vegetables. The smell alone was enough to rouse the appetites of the couple as they picked up their knives in anticipation. Placing the dishes before his guests, I cast a sly glance towards Sara as a sat. My magickal learning has more domestic applications, such as summoning all the food I could ever want. It was only the tradition forced upon me by the Edenites which made me take on Sara's ancestors as servants. Sara smiled at Eliphas' evident surprise at how the obviously inept cook had managed to produce such a delicious meal. The silence began to fall as the meal was begun and conversation blossomed. Sara soon discovered that she could talk to her former master as if he were an equal, a fact he seemed to draw equal satisfaction from. They talked about matters of the village, the plentiful harvests and the finally, the whispered rumours of a second War between the gods. Merchants from the east had begun to report the raising of a great army, rivalling that of the first War. The High Citadel, stronghold of the Kilamite Empire, seemed to have been turned into a veritable fortress in preparation for an unknown conflict. Sara seemed surprised at my knowledge of these events. As far as she knew, I never had any guests and rarely saw anyone except herself. "Malek" Sara cautiously asked as she mopped the last of the dripping from the plate with a chunk of bread, "I have long meant to ask you something". Sensing her discomfort, Eliphas moved closer to her side, placing a thick arm around her waist as she continued. "Excuse my inpertenance but why did the Founding War start? So much destruction could not have stemmed simply from hate, could it?" The question I had been dreading throughout her childhood had finally been asked. I slowly placed the knife beside my plate and poured another glass of wine, although I had barely begun the current one. I couldn't help my voice shaking as I began to describe the end of the old world and the beginning of Ashan; "There were seven of us originally, unified in our purpose to rid our world of evil. We were friends long before that but conflict creates a bond far stronger than friendship. A concept I am sure your new bondsman understands well." Eliphas nodded in assent as I continued. "Our world is...was far different to this lush paradise. Where you have wide-open plains and horses, we have towering buildings and motorised chariots. Information could be sent with the press of a button, lives saved through modern medicines, such was the nature of our world. Yet, our lands were infested with an evil most people didn't know about. They existed beneath our notice, killing and corrupting in secrecy. My friends and I discovered the truth one special night, but that is another tale. Regardless, we fought the fiends until the arrival of a being I have since called the Wishbringer. He is of the Djinn and could grant the wishes of others as well as his own. We fought him for the safety of the world, and lost. As punishment, he banished us to wander the Realms for evermore, never able to return home." My voice cracked as I fought to control the anger boiling in my mind, quickly gulping at the wine. "We travelled for so long" I eventually continued, "I have seen such sights; such wonders that my home seems empty in comparison. Eventually, we found ourselves transported to the place you now call the Gateway where your ancestors were awaiting their 'gods'. That was where the troubles first began. As we sat in the High Citadel, we discussed our options. Four of us, including myself, wanted to try and find a way out of this Realm and continue our journeys. I had long since theorised that there are infinite Realms beyond our own, each unique. However, eventually it must be possible to come across a world which is not so dissimilar from our home, perhaps even be our home. The others, led by Adam, decided that godhood suited them and that they would stay. Our efforts to find another Gate were futile and behind our backs, Adam began to consolidate his power amongst your people. Months turned into years and years to decades as we slowly lost hope in ever leaving Eden. Adam portrayed those who sought to leave as dark gods who intended to open a doorway to a hellish netherworld where our minions would eat their flesh or some nonsense. Regardless, it worked and his followers began to see him and his allies as the true gods and us as infernal pretenders. The final straw came when he proclaimed himself to be called Kilam after the legends and launched a campaign to wipe his former friends from the planet. We fled, what else could we have done? Kriss had been.creating an army of his kind to fight Kilam but he was outnumbered and outgunned. Whilst the rest of us fled, he died in a war he could never win." My vision was stained red as my emotions finally took control and I slammed the goblet onto the table, the rich red spilling across my hand and the table like blood. "He never stood a chance!" I cried out to the heavens, my hand clutching the goblet so hard my knuckles turned white. My voice raised to almost a shout, "I can still remember.carrying him in my arms...", before I knocked the goblet from the table with a sweep of my arm and stalked to the window. Moving behind his motionless figure, Sara tried to reach out to lay a reassuring hand on his heaving shoulder but was stopped by Eliphas' heavy hand clamping down upon her own. "Let him be" he growled as he rose to his feet, "Some things are better left alone, particularly grief." Grudgingly, Sara allowed herself to be led by the hand from the room, casting one last glance at the immovable form of her former liege and master as he gradually faded into shadow.  
  
Kriss is lying before me as I write, his body showing no sign of life. Not that his body showed much life whilst he was in the lands of the living due to his undead 'disease'. I can't help but feel responsible for his curse; it was I who destroyed his sire after all. My mentor and I arrived too late as 'it' stood over his bloodless body, long ago, his lips smeared with vampiric blood. I plunged the stake into her heart, not realising the consequences of my actions. Only afterwards did I find that only the newly undying destroying the creator could lift the curse of vampirism. Ever since that night, I have tried to help him as best I can. Some nights, his hunger drove him mad enough to rip at his own flesh to reach the blood flowing beneath. It took me three days to find him amongst the thousands of scorched and pulverised corpses, stretching for as far as the eye can see. The incredible heat of the Dragon flame-guns has rent the earth itself, twisting the soil into unnatural shapes. Desolate husks of metal litter the battlefield, monuments to the undying loyalty of the vampire forces of Kriss. Kilam took it upon his 'celestial majesty' to face Kriss personally, albeit armed with that damned Rod of Power. I watched from the mountains, powerless to intervene, for fear of being discovered. He showed no mercy to his former friend, bearing down upon him with savage ferocity. If it didn't prove how far Kilam had forgotten his roots, it certainly proved how powerful he had grown in our absence. The sheer amount of magic he used against the noble vampire was staggering, I felt the very earth beneath my feet shake .How Kriss survived the arcane onslaught evades me but he rose again and continued to approach the armoured form of Kilam. He smote Kriss with lightning, forcing him to the ground but he rose again and continued advancing. As Kriss stood before him, readying himself to strike the traitor, I saw Kilam raise the Rod and strike the valiant half-vampire with animal ferocity. The concussive wave shook the mountainside as Kriss collapsed to the ground, a nimbus of blinding light raging around his prone form.  
  
3.  
  
Dawn rose over Ashan, the celebrations having lasted long into the night. Remnants of the festivities were strewn across the town, banners and wines filling the roads. As the birds serenaded the rising sun, another noise overwhelmed their sweet song, one loaded with menace. The villagers gradually awoke as the distant roar gradually grew in intensity, shaking their houses to the foundations. Panic turned to terror as the fleeing Ashians saw the source of the discord. A squat metallic vehicle rose over the crest of the hills, silhouetted in the morning sun. Measuring nearly eight metres wide and twice as long, a single tube emerging from the front of the tank, occasionally venting a huge gout of flame. Another rose over the opposite rise, causing similar panic amongst the citizens. They rumbled on unopposed until they stood mere feet away from the centre of the village. The rumbling juggernauts stopped in their tracks, an ominous silence descending over Ashan as the citizens froze in place, waiting to see what happened. With a rush of superheated air, the turrets of the metal goliaths spewed liquid flames across the entire expanse of the village The villagers who were not caught in the initial burst fled screaming from this rain of fire, those who were not so fortunate were instantly immolated in the flames. Sara had been one of the first to be roused by the destruction, awaking to find Eliphas missing from her bed. She hurried outside, holding her simple blanket close to conceal her naked body. Eliphas was standing amidst the flaming rubble of a nearby cottage, barely dressed, shouting to the militia over the screams of the dying. A ragged congregation had formed on the outskirts of the warzone, searching for survivors and avoiding the unstoppable death bringers. Sara could hear some of them weeping, some cursing but all of them pleading to the Elder for protection. Then something incredible happened; I answered. An immense bolt of crimson lightning suddenly descended upon one of the Dragons, destroying it with a huge ball of fire that reached high into the sky. As the molten wreckage crashed back to the earth, a few of the more perceptive onlookers looked up to the source of the intervention and were awed. Standing before his stone retreat stood the figure of Malek, tendrils of red energy hungrily crackling around his arms. Here they perceived their lord and master in his full glory. His woollen cloak rippled behind him in an unnatural wind as curiously purple tinted storm clouds gathered overhead, heavy with arcane malice. " I? ngg fhtagn." the inhuman syllables I uttered were barely audible over the howling winds as the skies answered my call. It had been so long since I had invoked the elements; I found I was almost enjoying the feeling of their power bending to my will. The tanks continued their progress, turning towards the Elder with their cannons spouting flame. I watched as they faced me, sensing the energy I had invoked coalescing in the clouds above me. I calmly raised my hand to the skies, as if I could grasp the palpable energy, before letting the limb fall limply to my side. With a blast of air that knocked several of the Ashian villagers from their feet, a wave of crimson energy fell upon the remaining two engines of destruction. Sickly purple energy crackled across the metallic armour, arcing into the sky with disregard for the earthly physics. The bolts increased in ferocity, ripping the vehicles apart before the villagers' eyes. As Sara stood amongst the flaming buildings, eyes wide in wonder, she swore that she could hear a discordant sound of flutes seemingly from the sky itself. Eventually, the armour was reduced to a smoking pool of molten metal around the sagging frame of the behemoths. The bemused pilots of the once-great weapons crawled from the rapidly heating frame, wearing the religious robes of the Kilamites. They looked towards each other with a look of amazement before reaching into their robes and producing pistols, albeit cruder than the earthly counterpart, and began to advance on Malek. The storm clouds above had begun to dissipate as quickly as they had appeared but the Elder stood, unperturbed and unprotected, as the invaders climbed the muddy hill to reach him. I allowed them to stand only a few feet away before I made any movement at all. As they stood and lowered their weapons towards me, I simply nodded and completed the charm which had lay dormant since their arrival. The trio were engulfed in a biblically huge, explosive burst of flame. The pillar of flame stretched high into the clouds, scorching the earth beneath it with the intense heat. Many of the villagers who had strayed too far to the hillside were beaten back by the heat. Silhouetted in the raging inferno, the skeletons of the intruders were stripped of their flesh and collapsed to the ground. The blackened bones still smoked as the pillar vanished as soon as it had materialised, revealing the untouched form of the Elder, standing amidst the immolated ground. With a thought, I let the remaining energy wrapped around my frame dissipate harmlessly into the earth. I raised my arms in supplication, my magickal voice booming out across the chaos beneath me. The villagers froze in their tracks and sorrow as their God addressed them from the desolate hilltop. "People of Ashan, my subjects, I have failed you. For too long have I deluded you, making you believe that I was your protector, rather the roles were reversed. I have lay concealed amongst you for centuries, hiding from the forces of Kilam who hunt me even today." I began to walk down the hill towards them, gesturing to the rapidly cooling remains of the tanks as I continued; "This is where I have brought you, to the brink of destruction. It is thus that I take my leave of you. I must travel into the Far Lands and seek out my fellows, it is time for the 'Gods' to return home. Know that in my heart, I hold each of you dear and will miss you every day of my life." I hesitantly looked into the tear-filled eyes of Sara before tracing the sigil of Yith in the air with my hand. With a flash of colour unknown to human palettes, I found myself on a distant hill, overlooking the smoking remains of the village. I felt obliged to aid them rebuild yet a stronger resolve burned in me, to find Adam and make him pay for his crimes, and finally go home. With a final glance over my home for the past two centuries, I turned and began the long, weary trek to the Northern Wastes.  
  
4.  
  
Since my arrival in Eden, I have tried to write in this journal as much as possible. I suppose I'm doing this because I'm not sure that I will ever make it home so maybe this book will, I just don't know. I have no idea of how long we have travelled, each Realm either being a different country or having a completely different concept of time. Anyway, most of my entries so far have been rambling and disjointed so as I sit here, surrounded by the desolation of Kriss' final stand, I will try to make sense of all this. Eden, the Realm in which we found ourselves after our travels, is not unlike our home of Earth. Geographically it differs considerably with one central continent surrounded by expanses of ocean. The continent is of a temperate clime; the seasons similar to those of our home world, although there are massive ice plains to the north. We arrived at the High Citadel, an ancient construction erected by the ancestors of our newfound worshippers, to a forgotten god. The Citadel is an elegant tower, crafted from pure white marble, that reaches to the clouds. When we left the tower and first saw Eden, it was although we had wandered into paradise. There were green pastures as far as the eye could see with abundant life and clear blue skies. The wildlife here seems similar to Earth, albeit with some exceptions (although no wyrms, thank god). The only huge difference is that the Realm is abundant with magickal energy. The elements are stronger here than in any other world I have visited. No doubt Kilam has realised this as well. It would definitely account for his rapid acquisition of power in recent years. The others have gone to ground, I'm not even sure if any of them are still alive. It may just be me and Kilam left, if so, my time will be short. Although I am more powerful than he in the arcane arts, he has legions of followers at his call. Although I am a supposed 'god', I know I cannot perform a miracle such as defeating a force that monstrous. I have reached a decision as to my future, I will hide amongst the peoples of Eden. On my travels I have come across a small village on the boundaries of the Ice Plains. The citizens seem more xenophobic than their fellows in other towns, ideal for my purposes. 


End file.
